Each month, write a new collection.
I disobeyed the prompt, because I haven't done the animals poem yet:There’s a war here on the two Fences— my neighbor’s and mine — between the squirrels and The birds.It’s been going on for days. The two squirrels — one big one littleMount an attack on a tree — why?No idea. There’s some weird fruit maybeOr maybe it’s existential — the tree is THEREAnd therefore we must attack it and the birdWhat kind? No idea, I am a city person and thisIs a city poem so get off my neck about sub-speciesAnd breeds — so anyhow the bird flies after themAttacking and flapping and pecking til they bothRun back across the fences and hide under the partOf the roof that is higher, and so makes a littleBomb shelter for them. I feel sorry for the squirrels atFirst but they recover from the pecking and they crawlBack along the fence to attack the tree again. They Look like soldiers, they are soldiers on a missionAnd I wonder if there’s any way out of this — attacks and counterAttacks and the wounded licking their tails under buildings.I wonder if my neighbor notices. Probably not. Since his wife left him, he isn’t home much. I see himAt the coffee shop with other neighbors whom IRecognize but don’t know personally. I neverHeard them fighting, but one time I heard herOrgasming alone with the windows open. HeHad gone to work. Just her car in the garage.It sounded happy. She was glad I think to finallyHave a moment of Peace.